Makin’ Stuff Up: Why I Failed To Blush

Standing over the goody table at a recent NSAI mixer, my fellow songwriter’s voice dripped with snarky cynicism. “I suppose now you’re writing songs with artists to get cuts,” he remarked, as if sharing the creative process with someone who doesn’t toil five days a week in the writing rooms of Music Row is beneath the integrity of a pro tunesmith.

Being honest and forthright as I tend to be, I shot back an unabashed “Absolutely!” I failed to blush, however. You see, I’m not the slightest bit ashamed to confess that most of my co-writing schedule is reserved for performing songwriters. In fact, I’ve been makin’ songs up with artists since the primordial, all-analog days of the ‘70s. Why? Because, while living as a creative person is a blessing for which I am eternally grateful, I really like the idea of making a living at it.

After four decades of crafting songs, I can truthfully say that only a handful of my cuts found their way into the studio by way of a pitch. For the vast majority of the titles on my discography, someone strategically involved with the project had a very real reason to prefer my composition over hundreds of other submissions. Two factors control the destiny of your songwriting career: how well you do it and, oft-times even more importantly, who you do it with. So, on a good number of my credits, the performer’s name sits adjacent to mine.

After all, who makes the ultimate decision as to whether a song gets recorded? Survey sez: Ding! “The singer.” No mystery there. And, if that singer played a legitimate (important word) part in penning the tune, there might just be an extra bit of motivation to put it on the session. Ya think? Writing with the artist cuts out all the “no” people, thereby shortening the long odds every tunesmith faces in this highly political game of chance. Sure beats pitchin’ to junior A&R, only to run the gauntlet through four or five levels of gatekeepers – every one looking for an excuse to cut it off with a pass – the last of whom is the artist. And, if you go about it strategically, bringing the performer into the creative process helps insure that you’ll come up with a song that rings true for the artist – and one that’s smack dab in his or her vocal wheel house. Remember, your goal is always to end up with a song a singer will want to belt out some 200 nights a year – for years to come.

Music Row legend tells of Dean Dillon, who was evidently a little miffed over his publisher pairing him up with a fledgling artist-writer – an apparent insult to Dillon’s hit-writer status. At the appointed time and place, the Hall of Famer showed up packing a cassette wrapped in a lyric sheet with a rubber band. The veteran tunesmith handed his “unworthy collaborator” the tape and said, “Here’s the song we wrote today. Have a good one.” Then he left the befuddled young feller with a brand new Dean Dillon “co-write” and some unexpected hours to burn. To be sure, there are numerous accounts of big stars demanding credit on songs they had little or nothing to do with creating. Anyone who truly believes The King actually deigned to sit down with Otis Blackwell to pen “Don’t Be Cruel” probably still believes in the Easter Bunny. The talented Mr. Blackwell, however, dang well knew that 50 percent of an Elvis Presley single was worth a million times more than an obscure blues release any day. And that, my friends, is why they call it The Music Bizness.

I’ve been privileged and fortunate to be asked to write with and for some legends. However, these days, as much as I’d love to knock out a big ol’ smash with Toby or Miranda, I don’t go out of my way to score appointments with established stars. I see far greater percentage in collaborating with the potential superstars of the future. In the late ‘90s, my pal, Jon Robbin, a talented, journeyman tunesmith, and one heck of a plumber, co-wrote a vulnerable, broken-hearted love ballad with a gregarious bartender named Chris Cagle. After a Capitol Records contract allowed the cocky, young dude to retire his Martini shaker, “I Breathe In, I Breathe Out” became Cagle’s first number one.

A few years back, a lanky, blond, 14-year-old newbie approached Liz Rose with a proposal to co-write. Despite the protests of Rose’s publisher – he thought Liz was wasting her time writing with a kid without a record deal – those weekly writing sessions resulted in half a dozen hits, including a Grammy winner. And, in the process, Liz Rose established a lifelong songwriting partnership with youthful phenom Taylor Swift.

Two decades ago, Kent Blazy gave a boot salesman/part-time church janitor a chance to co-write. (Oh, yeah, the lad could sing a little, too.) The initial Kent Blazy/Garth Brooks appointment yielded the first in a string of chart toppers, a little ditty titled “If Tomorrow Never Comes.” Blazy has had at least one cut on every Garth Brooks release (save one) since. (FYI, you can see all the way to Kentucky from Kent’s back deck.)

“I suppose now you’re writing songs with artists to get cuts.”

“Absolutely,” I responded, without a dollop of embarrassment. And, I’d bet you my prized Jerry Garcia guitar pick that Marcus Hummon, Gary Burr, Darryl Scott, Rory Bourke, Matraca Berg, Tim James, Josh Kear, and most especially Desmond Child, wouldn’t blush at that supposition either.

You’re probably not gonna swagger onto Music Row and book an appointment with Brad Paisley. But, you can scout writers’ nights, showcases, and demo sessions with an eye open for burgeoning talent. Developing a trusting, collaborative relationship with a diamond in the rough can turn into an annuity for life, provided the kid has the goods – and those fickle stars align just right.

A 4-decade music biz vet, Rand Bishop (www.randbishop.com) has been a major label recording artist, session singer, A&R exec, platinum producer, and hit publisher. As a songwriter, he counts more than 250 cuts, including country radio’s most played song of 2002, “My List,” (Toby Keith). The author of four books, Bishop resides in Nashville, where he continues to write and coach aspiring artists and songwriters.